A Complex Design
by OddPotato
Summary: Arianna Weasley; theirs was a love story, ours was a Quidditch rivalry. The relationship we had was of a simple design: work together in a semi civil manner for Quidditch, then exchange childish insults for as long as we could breathe or blink. It wasn't supposed to progress into a friendship, nor become complicated. It definitely wasn't supposed to become something more.


**Prologue**

I brushed my Weasley red hair off my face as I directed another huff of annoyance to my twin. He continued reading his battered copy of ' _A Beginner's Guide To Transfiguration'_ in the middle of the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, paying no attention to our surroundings and unfortunately, ignoring me in the process. I was already used to my brother ignoring my ways, but today was different: we were lost. We were completely and utterly lost.

During breakfast, mum had given Bill and Charlie, my two older brothers, the responsibility of buying our Hogwarts things. She'd pressed a small pouch of galleons into their hands and given us concise instructions to not do anything we'd get a spanking for before running off to stop Fred and George from putting salt into a bellowing Ron's cereal bowl while trying to stop Ginny from throwing soggy bits of cereal absentmindedly. Then, immediately after we'd stumbled into Diagon Alley and had tried our best to brush the soot off our clothes, Bill set off to get our potion ingredients, leaving us with Charlie, who had abandoned us to have a snog with his girlfriend.

Expectedly, in the midst of the busy crowd, Percy and I got pushed and tossed about until Percy took matters into his own hands. With one hand clinging tightly onto a lamp post and the other clutching his textbook, he refused to budge and gave me a glare when I tugged at his clothes. But in all that misfortune, a burst of happiness came in the form of a Quidditch shop, a few shops away from where we were. My frown became a huge beam as a feeling of giddy excitement overwhelmed my insides.

"Perce," I prodded him in the stomach with unnecessary force, enjoying the look on his face. "Percy."

"What, Arianna?" He snapped at me, pushing his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. "Can't you see I'm reading?"

"I know, but," I said, hope clear on my features. "Can we go see the Nimbus 1700? Just for a while."

He paused his reading, giving me a stare which Fred and George named as the 'Bighead Percy Stare' and returned to his textbook, saying a short, "No."

I took a long, calming breath as I tried to resist the urge to strangle him. Even though I'd fought and wrestled with my brothers at home, I doubted that the strangers around us would like it if I suddenly held my brother in a chokehold. I could already imagine the look on my mother's face if she had to come down from The Burrow because her eleven year olds got into a fist fight. Besides, between studious Percy and reckless Arianna, we'd all know who would get a sharper reprimand. And I wasn't in the mood to get another scolding – especially since my last one had only been two weeks ago. I'd jumped off the tree with our old _Shooting Star_ , but had unfortunately taken the one that was faulty. After mum had treated my broken arm, she'd tried to break my ears with her shouting.

I narrowed my eyes as the ' _Quality Quidditch Supplies'_ signboard caught my eyes. I was going to catch a glimpse of the _Nimbus 1700_ today, no matter what and Percy Weasley was not going to stop me. As my gaze darted from the shop that held the magnificent broomstick to Percy to the rusty chair placed a few meters away, my mind quickly came up with an idea. I slapped myself to keep the grin that was slowly creeping up my face at bay.

"Perce," I sighed his name with mock resignation. "Shouldn't we at least not stand in the middle of people's way?"

As if to prove my point, a balding man nearly tripped over Percy and sent a glare at our direction before walking away, muttering something about 'children nowadays'.

Sending me a look as if he was shocked I could be a little bit sensible, he nodded and unknowingly followed me to the Quidditch shop, rambling nonsense as he did so.

"I don't understand your obsession with that violent sport," he said haughtily, encouraged when I nodded absently. I ducked under an arm as he continued, "You should take up a more beneficial hobby."

"Like what?" I muttered, walking faster.

Percy nearly fell over in surprise, thinking I was finally going to accept his advice, "Well," he beamed. "I have a few book recommendations for you. You'd love it."

I rolled my eyes, pursing my lips together to keep myself from laughing. We finally reach the rusty chair and he immediately sat on it, already immersed in the world of transfiguration and not bothering to offer me some place to sit. Not that it mattered, I wasn't going to sit anyway, but the gesture would've been nice. He lifted his head from the book, raising an eyebrow.

"What now?" asked Percy.

"Oh, look!" I bounced in my place with excitement and impatience as I pointed to the sign that read, " _Quality Quidditch Supplies"._ "What a pleasant coincidence!" His eyes widened in alarm as he took in my crazed expression. "I'll be going now!"

I raced off to the window of the shop, ignoring my brother's protests. The Nimbus 1700 was laying there, basking in the glory and light that it seemed to emit. My mind went blank as the glass separating me from the majestic work of art called me over, pleading for me to smash my face against it. Who was I to deny it?

"Wow," I gasped, marveling at the smooth surface of the broomstick. The polished mahogany was so shiny that I could see my own reflection on it, its twigs at the end were neatly trimmed and all of the same length. I was blind to the fact that if you looked at me from inside the shop, I would've looked like a drooling goldfish.

"A beauty, isn't it?" I turned around to see a boy around my age, with brown hair and a Scottish accent, his face pressed against the window in a similar fashion to what I was doing. He stepped away from it, "I heard everyone in Puddlemere United's going to get one. They're going to destroy everyone else this year, as usual."

I nearly gasped in horror. Puddlemere United? Destroy everyone? Trying to put my offended feelings aside (because Puddlemere United would definitely _not_ beat the Holyhead Harpies in a _million_ years), I crossed my arms with a glare. "Who are you?"

"Oliver Wood," he announced proudly, also crossing his arms. "And you are?"

"Arianna Weasley," I said with narrowed eyes. "Just so you know, the Harpies will be the ones doing any destroying this year."

"They're below Puddlemere, aren't they?" he said, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, that's only because the Appleby Arrows got that penalty shot and they didn't deserve to," I said, poking him in the chest. "I bet you don't know a thing about Quidditch."

" _I_ don't like _you_ ," he said after a moment of thought. "So I think you know less and you probably can't play at all."

"I'll have you know that I'm a fairly decent chaser," I retorted.

"You'd have to be more than fairly decent to get past me," Oliver Wood said. "I'm a keeper."

"I can get past you," I said, my face becoming as red as my hair. "I bet you can't even stay on your broom for thirty seconds."

"I bet _you_ can't mount your broom," He argued. "And Puddlemere United is a million times better than the Holyhead Harpies." He uncrossed his arms, revealing Puddlemere United's emblem on his navy blue jersey.

"I hope you're in Slytherin," I scowled at him, having no more insults to throw at him.

"I hope you're in Hufflepuff," he smirked back.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?" I asked, frowning. "They're nice, aren't they?"

"What the hell's a Hufflepuff, huh, Weasley?" he replied and I had the strong urge to wipe off his annoying smirk.

"I hate you," I turned around quickly, finding pleasure in whipping his face with my long hair. Silently, I thanked my mum for insisting that I keep my long, cumbersome hair.

Out of the corner of my eye, Oliver Wood stuck his tongue out at me after yelling, "I hate you too!"

Letting out a huge huff, I tapped my foot as I fumed. How dare he insult the Harpies? The Harpies were like an extension of my very being and when he insulted them, he insulted me. I wanted to pummel him into the ground and throw him off a tree. Just he wait. When I get into the house team during second year, I'd beat him and his whole house. They wouldn't even see what was coming.

I could already taste victory on my tongue. I could see him throwing his stupid keeper gloves on the stupid ground as the crowd roared because I scored the winning goal. And in between chants of "GRYFFINDOR" which I'd naturally be in, you'd hear my friends chanting 'Arianna, Arianna, Arian-!"

"Arianna," Bill called as he squeezed past the crowd of people. My shoulders jerked upwards as I was jolted out of my day dream. He caught my eye and panted out, trying to catch his breath. "Figured you'd be here. Let's go, we have to get your robes."

I turned around where the annoying midget was, making a face at Oliver Wood, "Prat."

He returned my gesture, scrunching his own face at me.

"So," Bill asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes as we walked away from the prat and the Quidditch shop. "Who's that boyfriend of yours?"

I hugged my brother's arm tightly as I scowled at him, "A daft hippogriff."

* * *

A/N: Hey, everyone. Thanks for giving this a chance. Leave a review and tell me your thoughts? :D

This is a repost of the fic I started in 2013. Trying to massively rewrite/ edit it and hopefully shape it into something better so yah. Also, this isn't as good as I want it to be but I didn't want to change too much of the original one I posted because I really liked how their first meeting went. Sorry for any grammatical errors and/or any other mistakes you find in here.


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